They Call Me Alpha
by wolfluvermh
Summary: I am the oncoming storm. I am the sole survivor. I see into the future and peer at the past. I know the touch of time and feel the heartbeat of the universe. I am the queen of new horizons, and the mother of all things good. Call my name, and I will stand by your side. My name? They call me Alpha. Follow in my footsteps, Maximum Ride, and you will go far.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm still new at writing Fanfictions, so I'd like constructive criticism, not flames! Flames are a no-no! **

**Basically, this is about another group of mutants that'd been created for the exact same reason as the flock, except by a different company. In an epic world torn apart by natural disasters, can Max learn to trust the standoffish wolf, or Angel? Will the wolf help or hurt their chances for survival? Can they uncover the rest of the flock from the tunnels, or will they be doomed to stay trapped underneath the sand for the rest of their lives?**

* * *

**Chapter One**

Angel looks up in the periphery of my vision, and an innocent smile dominates her sweet features. Beside her, Dylan whittles away at a piece of driftwood and a shard of glass that'd washed up on the beach. Fang's muscled arms wrap around me, and I lean against his lithe strength.

"Look!" exclaims Angel, lifting a finger. "It's a surfer."

I squint in the distance, and there is a dark shape bobbing on the waves. It's probably nothing more than a baby whale that hadn't been able to handle the tsunami. A dolphin had already washed up, but Dylan and Fang had collaborated and dragged it out to some distant reef. Small islands keep on cropping up in the distance where the sand gets washed together by the raging currents as well; that might just be the most recent addition.

"That's not a surfer, Ange," I dismiss, coiling back into Fang's strong embrace.

"No," she agrees, unfurling her pure white wings. "You're right. It's a survivor. A survivor that happens to be riding a surfboard."

Dylan throws down the wood carving and gawks at the figure. "She's right!" he exclaims. Those blue eyes get a little rounder. "And, my god, he's got wings!"

I bolt up, wriggling out of Fang's arms. Throwing sand in my wake, I run up to the shore of our little island along with the flock. We all gaze out over the aquamarine sea, squinting at the figure drifting closer and closer to our little sandbar. And, as he draws nearer, I can make out the dark shapes of two wings helping the man keep his balance.

"Who is he?" I whisper.

"A rogue mutant?" guesses Fang, shrugging.

"One of ours that was out on a flight test?" wonders Dylan.

"None of those," giggles Angel. She's bouncing up and down with excitement, golden curls wiggling with every motion. "He's from another island!"

I frown at her. "Uh… what, honey?"

The figure waves erratically in the distance. I can make out his features now, with my raptor vision: he's got long black hair that hangs around his ears with a magazine model glamor, and caramel skin. Judging by his chiseled appearance, the guy's in his mid-twenties. His wings are black like Fang's, except they're not as… sexy. As I watch in horror, he begins doing a sort of jig on top of his board.

We all sort of gawk at the man as the board beaches itself. He jumps off, beaming already. I can tell that he's going to be one of those happy-go-lucky people that get on my nerves _all the time_. He waves. "Hi!" he greets excitedly, waving his hand around like a bag of flour. The way his golden eyes twinkle cheerfully is downright annoying.

"Who are you?" I demand. "Where did you come from?"

He grins, revealing a set of killer white teeth. Is it just me, or are his canines a little too long? "Hey. You must be Maximum Ride. The name's Shada. Not Shad-ow. But it's pronounced like Shadow if you live in Southern US, I guess. Hey, that rhymed!"

Fang tenses beside me, settling into a crouch. A deep growl rumbles in his throat. The other dude's smile turns wicked, and he copies the gesture, a real growl thundering from him. "What are we doing?" Shada intones, eyes flashing with amusement between rumbles.

"He seems innocent enough," speculates Dylan with a nod. I narrow my eyes, inspecting the stranger. He doesn't seem threatening, true, especially since he starts picking out the sand from underneath his ragged nails.

"Angel," I growl, "can we trust him?"

She nods ecstatically, sending her curls bobbing. "Oh, yes! We can definitely trust him!" Angel sits crisscross on the ground in front of Shada, looking up with big eyes from the sand. "Tell them why you're here, Shada!"

His golden eyes soften, and he sits down next to her. "D'awww, I always did have a weak spot for kids…. But, then again, you're kind of creepy… well, whatever…"

"Start talking," I order, stamping my foot. "Now." Fang's arms coils around me, soothing my nerves. I can tell from the tenseness in his arm that this guy's making him twitchy, too.

Shada grins up at me. His black wings aren't glossy like Fang's, but rather matte. The ends of each of his primaries are ringed in silver crescents, like little moons in the night sky. "Alright, alright. Can I call you Maxine?"

"No," refuses Fang coolly, and I can practically feel the oppressed anger in his voice.

"Okay!" His face splits into a giant grin. "Well, you guys think you're all alone in the genetic universe, right?" I nod hesitantly. "You're not. You've just been too little to attract much attention before now. But then the baby birds left the nest and got over your relationship crises, and now you're drawing attention to yourself." His golden eyes level dangerously. "You've entered the world of heaven and hell, folks. And you're new. You've got no clue what you're doing. You've got a measly force of what, a hundred untrained genetics? There are forces by the thousands with their eyes on your turf. I represent one of those groups, and we could care less about this sand." He picks up a clump of sand and sifts it through his fingers. "I was on a diplomatic mission, a race against time, to get here and fortify an alliance between your people and ours. Honestly, it's an act of kindness. And I don't want to do it. My leader does. She's meeting me here. Say hi." He waves up at the sky.

Angel copies him. I frown, totally confused. "So you're saying that there are others like us?" I question slowly.

He smiles and wobbles his wings. "Close to a hundred thousand. Most of us aren't quite as noisy as the bird-kids, though. My leader's been getting cross with your news attention, you know. She tries to keep anybody, ally or foe, under the radar. But you were too ickle to be anything more than an annoyance." His eyes darken. "Now you can."

"Ickle?" I demand. "I'll shove that surfboard down your throat, and then we'll see who's ickle then!"

"Calm," soothes Fang, fingers trailing my back in paths of warmth. Reluctantly, I curl my lip at the calm newcomer and kick a bit of sand at his face. He doesn't even flinch. Actually, I'm not even a hundred percent sure that he notices. His eyes are gazing at something in the sky.

I swallow, curbing my anger. "So… these other nations, they're threats?"

"Most of the time," amends Shada. "There are a few, such as the Pack and Geriber's Island, that have no interest in conquering. But mostly, yeah."

"Who's your leader?" questions Dylan. "I mean, shouldn't we be negotiating with them?"

"Her," corrects Shada, rising from the ground and spilling the sand I'd kicked on him. "And, yes, you should. That's why she's coming down." He glances around wearily. "Just no one… freak out. She's friendly. And cute. And confusing."

I frown, but I swirl around and cock my head up to the sky. Angel points a finger at the descending shape, and my mouth falls open. "Oh my god," whispers Dylan in untamed awe. Fang grunts in amazement, which is proof that it's really cool.

The beast that sets down lightly in the sand is magnificent, to say the least. The moment her paws touch the sand, a ripple runs through the ground and sends a wave of drifting sand particles. Gleaming beautifully in the sun, her silver wings are held in magnificent arches on either side of her body. Head tucked against her chest and ears flattened, she sends a shiver through her silvery mane of fur, and lifts her majestic head.

Did I go a little poet there? Yes. But, honestly, I don't see how you could've explained her without becoming cheesy.

The platinum wolf lifts her head framed by curling hair, her icy blue eyes boring into me. Her triangular ears prick like they do in movies. She folds her long, broad wings against her sides. Tail held up, the wolf takes two elegant steps forward, and then sweeps into a low bow.

"Madame Maximum Ride," she purrs musically, shutting her eyes in respect. The sight of this fantastic creature bowing to me sends a tremor of pride up my spine, and I straighten slightly. "How humbled I am to meet you at last."

"You're bowing to her?" Shada's voice is distraught. "Why? Why on earth would you to that?"

"A leader deserves respect," rumbles the silver wolf, and I feel myself warming to her rich, chocolaty voice as it hardens in disapproval. "You waddled in here and acted like an idiot, I see. I suppose that's nothing new."

He puts a hand on his hip and snaps sassily. "Are you—"

"We don't have time for this," she interrupts with a sigh. "Maximum Ride, the attention is adverted back to you."

"You can rise…," I blubber, frowning. "I guess."

"Thank you." She lifts her elegant head once more. "Don't let this idiot get you down." Her wing flashes out and smacks Shada in the nose as he regains his placement by her side. "There are many like him in this world."

"You're like me," Angel whispers in fascination, drifting closer to the silver wolf. The wolf looks into Angel's eyes, and Angel looks into hers, and they just sit there for a moment. Shada whines to himself and rubs his nose where the wolf had bonked him. After a weird moment, the wolf's face splits into a toothy smile. I feel generally uncomfortable with Angel next to those huge fangs.

"Another mind reader, I see," she chuckles. "Welcome to the family, Angel."

"Wait," blurts Dylan, stumbling to my left side. "You're a mind reader?"

The wolf turns to him and smiles generously. "Yes, child. I can. And, my god, it is such a curse when certain people think of certain dirty thoughts just to get on my nerves." The wing flashes out again and knocks Shada unconscious. I snort with laughter at the gleam in her icicle blue eyes.

"But, seriously," I manage between guffaws, "who are you two?"

"Well, this is Shada, as I'm sure he's told you." The wing gestures towards the man lying lifeless on the sand. "And me… Well, me…" She straightens, sending a ruffle through her already perfect silver fur.

"They call me Alpha."

* * *

Alpha looks down at their gawking faces, and smiles to herself. Things have came. Things have been coming. The storm is brewing in the distance.

Poor creatures. Poor things. All swept up in the tides.

* * *

**Okay! If you want me to continue, review! If I don't get that many reviews, then I won't write another chapter all that quickly!**

**I do this thing where I write a poll to help me work on my writing every chapter, and I'd love it if you responded! Please, answer back! **

**POLL: Do you think that I kept the characters well, or do I need to redesign their attitudes?**

**Ciao, **

**~wolfluvermh**


	2. Chapter 2

**And here we go!**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

To my confusion, Alpha places her ear against the sand, leaning down awkwardly. She stays there for a moment, closing her eyes in her focus. Beside me, Fang's lips twitch in a confused frown. I, myself, am feeling kind of baffled.

"They got buried deep," announces Alpha respectfully, rising from the wet sand and shaking the fine clumps off her hair. "The rest of your flock is at least under thirty feet of wet sand. With the tide rising as it is, in another day, it'll become fifty feet." She bows her head to me. "Permission to assure your flock of your survival."

"Permission granted." I glare around at the Fang, Dylan, and Angel. "Why don't you start treating me like this?"

"Because we're not total suckers for you," counters Fang, crossing his arms and shooting me a dark look. Actually, he always shoots me dark looks. Fang is a dark look-er. But this one is a disapproving dark look. "I wouldn't expect anything like that."

"I'll call you ma'am if you'd like," offers Dylan indifferently. The boys exchange a heated stare down, to which Blondie looks away from.

"Do you have any immediate plans on retrieving them from the sand?" Alpha butts in, her diamond eyes flashing. "No, wait, just read your mind. That could be a segment of any treaty which the Maximums – I thought of a name for your people out of the blue there, and I rather like it – and the Otium, the country I represent."

"I like it, too," I agree, casting a "I'll kill you if you argue" glance around the circle of the flock. "Fierce, but swift and awesome. Makes us seem tough."

"Always good with the Klux running around," approves Shada, shaking his head and sending sand bits swirling through the air. Placing one hand on his temple, he glares up at Alpha. "Did you have to hit me so hard? I'm going to have a welt…"

"Oh, poor Shada!" tsks Alpha sarcastically. "Now all the girls will be throwing themselves at you for a chance to tend to your wounds!"

He turns to her, smiling up cockily. "It sounds like somebody's jealous."

"It sounds like somebody's drooling as they dream." Alpha tilts an ear in his direction. "Oh, look, I was right. How do I know? I can read your mi – Dylan, stop that train of thought right there!" She glares at him murderously while I blink in confusion. "It is not at all polite to start thinking of every inappropriate thought that has ever run through your head when a Thinker is present! Shame on you!"

Dylan blushes. "Sorry," he mumbles.

Alpha makes a noise deep in her throat, something that sounds remarkably akin to a guttural growl. "And yet," she whispers softly, turning to Fang, "you don't take a hint. My lord, Fang, those are no thoughts to be having around Angel. It's nice for you and Max if you think she's the sexist woman to ever walk the planet, but, honestly, I don't want to know that."

Fang meets her eyes arrogantly, rocking back onto his heels. "Then stop reading my mind."

Angel pipes in. "That would be simple for me. I read minds on purpose, and I have to use energy to do so. But not her." She gestures towards Alpha expressively. "Alpha is unlike anything we've ever encountered. Her mind works on three different – well, I suppose you could say frequencies. Our minds just work on one. She's always scanning and checking and hinting and guarding the minds of those around her, whether she's aware of it or not. Try to be polite. She helped break Max out of prison."

"Angel," sighs Alpha bashfully, looking to the ground. "You're making me sound like a god."

"You are a god!" praises Angel. "A mother god!"

"Broke Max out of prison," I remind them. "Explain, please."

Shada rubs his head and grumbles, "Well, against my better judgment, Alpha helped greatly in busting you out of 'Mama's' prison. Remember Omega, her mortal enemy that you tussled with? That place? You think high-tech defense are going to, what… just fall down?" He shakes his head. "Try again. I got stabbed with a bayonet because of that." He pounds his chest. "And I never was thanked. Not once."

"Silence," snaps Angel. "You were not given permission to speak."

Alpha bristles dignifiedly. She lifts her head high. "As Max has warned you on several occasions, Angel, you have a tendency to claim power that walks by. Remember, child, that a good leader is not strict, but forgiving. Not cruel, but kind. Not dictating, but Not decided, but chosen."

"Wise words," approves Dylan with a nod.

"So…" I trail off, frowning. "You helped me? Like, a long time ago?"

Alpha nods. "It's my duty. Whether a mutant is as unimportant as a failed clone or as potent as a future-to-be leader of her own colony, it's the duty of the Pack to protect them."

"You lost me," I grunt blankly.

Shada sighs. "How about we wait till nightfall, and get a crackling fire started as we discuss politics underneath the eye of the moon and all her children the stars? Sound good? Good."

* * *

The stars wink in the sky like thousands of miniature diamonds, but, too Fang, each and every one of them pale to the beauty of Max safely in his arms. She leans her head back on his chest, her knotted hair brushing his neck. The fire leaps over her cheekbones like a dancing display, wild and erratic in the nighttime shadows. Across the flames, Shada looks more like a demon than the angel cradled in Fang's arms.

Ever since Fang clapped eyes upon the black-haired surfer dude, he'd been picking up aggressive comments and actions from the winged man. Angel adores him like her father and Max tolerates Shada, but something just doesn't seem right about the man. He seems too fit, too buff, and too friendly. His smiles are creepy, too. He has a smirk, an "aw that's cute" smile, and a grin that looks like he's baring his canines at you in a threat. The winged man is definitely not only of avian descent. Maybe he's part hyena.

The Alpha had taken a flight to fuel up, or, as Shada explained, go pick off at the nearest oceanic mammal she can find. The benevolent she wolf had plucked a few fish expertly from the water with her specially adapted paws. They simmer over the fire, spiced with a packet of cinnamon Shada happened to be carrying around with him.

"Can you tell us about Alpha?" questions Angel eventually. "She's learned to hide things from her mind. I'm not sure about how she became like that."

Shada leans back with his "aww" smile. "Well, you aren't the first little mind reader we've run into, and most of the time, meetings aren't per se… friendly."

"What do you mean?" demands Fang tonelessly, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Max.

"I mean that a lot of her type turn into megalomaniacs." He shrugs. "There's not a whole lot I can tell you. She was Generation 7, way back when; the Alpha is nearly fifty years old, by the way. So am I, for that matter. Anyway, Generation 7 was back before they realized that making genetic experiments with too much intelligence and brawn was a really bad idea. They wanted a super soldier, and so they got a super soldier. Alpha was originally just a happy little kid playing in her own happy little world, with all her happy little toys and stuff. But then her brother got involved with the Betterment Society – it's kinda like the School. They needed a test subject for that better race. And so, being the heartless jerk he was, her brother offered his own six year old sister."

Shada sighs sadly. "They turned her into that wolf thing by blending the DNA of humanity, of grey wolves, of peregrine falcons, and of golden eagles. She was the result: the super warrior they wanted. And, so, instantly, they scrambled for more super warriors until there was a trio of them. Alpha grew smart. She learned to outthink the scientists, until she and her two companions, a white winged wolf and a black winged wolf, escaped and stole away.

"Picture this: three youngsters, barely even in their teens, running free with speed over the sound limit and unequivocal strength. Oh, they were wild. They were free. It was fun, I suppose, until the lab caught up with them again about, uh, tenish years later. Then they were administered with the immortality drug, which slowed down their aging to about a year once a decade. They endured an even longer period of torture, finally escaping with every hair on their pelts singed. And, apparently, the scientists didn't get that, as long as they made another Great Wolf, that Alpha would return for them. Her numbers grew and continue to grow. Now, she's got around three thousand in her population and thirty-six in her Pack of rescued wolves.

"Alpha was the original you, Max." Shada shifts. "She was born literally to be superior. And she was superior. Is superior. Certainly superior to the scientists." He grins, baring his teeth. "You don't know the half of being hunted. Oh, it's been fun!" Shada chuckles to himself.

"How does that relate to my flock, buried in the sand?" demands Max, and Fang can just picture the way her chocolaty eyes are flashing. "Can she get them out?"

"Of course," assures Shada. "We'll need to rally the Pack, of course – you could come if you'd like, just to see what you're allying to – but then, removing them should be a synch. Probably take under an hour, thanks to Alpha's honed hearing. And mine." He taps his ear and nods.

"Okkaayyyy," laughs the blond-haired brute nervously. Shada's reflective golden eyes flash to Dylan, and he grins wolfishly. Before anyone can say anything, though, Alpha lands on the sand. Her wings tuck against her wide with flashes of silver in the moonlight, and her prowl is like a graceful dance as she walks up to the fire.

"That hit the spot," sighs Alpha, collapsing on the sand beside Shada. Shada rakes a hand through the fur right over her ear, making the giant wolf shudder with pleasure. Fang eyes the she wolf with new respect. "Nothing like a baby whale to quench your hunger."

Shada chuckles. He leans forward, rubbing his hands together. "Now, let's get down to business!"

* * *

"Oh!" laughs Dylan as he looks over the sunny green hilltop, his own voice bubbling out of proportion. "I must be dreaming!" Peering over the rolling hills and emerald grass and at the endless blue sky, he starts with approval. "This is nice. Is it, like, one of those dreams you can control? That'd be cool."

"You were having a nightmare," booms the Alpha's voice over the plain, like a clap of amused thunder. "I simply adverted your mind's wanders to something less chaotic."

Dylan frowns. "Thanks…? Where are you?"

"Find me," Alpha's voice whispers in his ear, and Dylan swears he can feel her breath on his neck and sense her lips moving next to his ear. Whipping around with wide eyes, Dylan sees no one. But, behind him, a sea of colorful flowers blooms. The aromas of the blossoms hit him head-on.

Dylan knows he must be dreaming, because, some ways off, there's Max sitting in the field and braiding the flowers together.

She looks like Max, but, at the same time, she really doesn't. The girl's eyes sparkle like light blue diamonds, even from this distance. Clothed in a simple light, light purple dress, she looks more elegant than Max's spunky appeal. Her long and almost unnaturally thick white hair is bound in a braid and strung with lavender and powder blue lilies. Unlike Max's tan skin, she has a light pallor that matches the rest of her whiteness. As the girl looks up at Dylan expectantly, he can see that she's actually not a girl, but a woman; a lady in her early twenties. Drifting closer, Dylan realizes that her face is a bit different from Max's, too. Rounder, softer, and motherly.

She smiles angelically and beckons him forward with a wave of her long-fingered hand. Frowning, Dylan shuffles between the ankle-deep field of flowers. He pauses in front of the lady, and then kneels beside her.

Her blue eyes glimmer with amusement. She picks a small golden flower and holds it out to him in a gesture of peace. Unsure of what he's doing, Dylan takes the flower into his hands, twiddling it between his fingers. The woman returns to her work, braiding the blossoms together in a giant wreath. She smiles to herself, and makes no noise as she works. Like a dream.

Finally mustering the courage, Dylan asks the beautiful lady, "Why do you look like Max?"

The lady chuckles, and Dylan's eyes snap open wider. She… she… she has the Alpha's resonating tones, the deep velvety purr! "Family does tend to look like family, Dylan," the Alpha chuckles, plucking a flower from the field and binding it back into her own plait. It's a blue rose with silver and white spiraling from the center like a pastel vortex of color.

Dylan's eyes pop as he realizes it. His mouth drops, but he can feel the dream already slipping from his grasp. "But – why tell me this?" he shouts as Alpha's lovely human face begins to fade.

She smiles. "Because you won't remember a thing. Silly Dylan. Of course you'd be the first to find out."

Dylan closes his dream-self's eyes, and it rolls over him like a tidal wave crashing against a cliff. Shada has said that Alpha's brother had offered her up for the pickings. He'd said that the brother had been heartless. Who does that sound like…?

"Oh my god," whispers Dylan as he slips from the dream world and back into reality. "The Alpha is Jeb's sister."

Dylan awakens in a cold sweat, snapping his eyes open. His muscles tremble, and he bolts upright. The beach is bathed in silvery moonlight, glinting off the shore and sparkling off the tranquil waters. He glances down at his sweaty palm and frowns. Dylan's own fingers are curled in a fist around something. Curiously, he unfolds his fingers to find a small golden flower clamped tightly in his hands.

For a reason he can't quite place, Dylan looks to the Alpha, lying all alone on the very tip of the small sandbar. He watches the rise and fall of her silvery fur, and can't help notice a blue swirling rose propped up against one of her triangular ears.

* * *

**BUMBUMBUM. **

**So, now we know a bit more about the Alpha. Yay. And, honestly, it makes sense to me that Jeb had a sister that he gave into his science project, so… no flames. **

**POLL: Throughout this chapter, Shada has been grinning "wolfishly" and baring long canines. He mentioned a black wolf that ran with the Alpha during her early days. Might that mean that Shada himself can switch between wolf and human forms? And, if so, can Alpha do the same?**

**Ciao,**

**~wolfluvermh**


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